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It may sound bad for anyone other than Connor, but the truth is that Oliver was an easy target. Simple as that.
When he approached him, the other man was sitting next to a few colleagues, talking about computer stuff Connor didn’t even bother trying to make any sense of. He looked completely startled and confused when Connor asked if he could offer him a drink and if they could go somewhere with less people around.
He would be perfectly okay flirting this guy’s pants off in front of all these people, but if he wanted to get the information he needed, he needed to be alone with the guy and slowly charm him away from sense. He didn’t seem to be the dumb kind who hands over any info just like that.
Watching from afar and actually talking to the guy proved to be two different things. Connor learned he was shy and would easily blush if he laid it on too thick, but overall he seemed to be the perfect choice for the job.
When Connor excused himself to get them another round of drinks, he looked back and found the man - Oliver, he’d learned - looking at his colleagues with a mix of confusion and suspicion. Did this guy really think the only reason someone would approach him at a bar was if his friends had played a hand in it?
He brought it up when he returned to their table, adding a flirty joke there to make it sound lighter.
“Ignore them. I just… I don’t talk to guys at bars that often,” he’d said in response, with a slight embarrassed stutter.
And maybe Connor’s brain had a moment there, but he needed to focus on his task first. If he got what he needed, he could entertain other ideas later. And so he steered the conversation back on topic, saying he worked across the street so his interest wouldn’t seem suspicious. Everyone gossips.
Oliver turned out to be more difficult to breach than he’d expected. He closed up and tensed, saying they weren’t supposed to talk about that. He had hit a wall, then.
Well, the night was still young, maybe he could chat someone else up and…
A guy walked by behind Oliver and looked him up and down. Connor returned the stare.
…which seemed to provoke some sort of reaction in Oliver. Maybe he wasn’t ready to let go just yet?
“Okay, but no one can know I told you this,” he said, a little reluctant yet.
Connor smiled. In his mind, he may or may not have sighed with relief and celebrated his victory for the five or so seconds it took Oliver to start talking again.
“Is there any possible way I could see those emails?”
He knew it would sound somewhat off, but he would need that proof.
Oliver put his glass down and tilted his head.
“You don’t really work across the street, do you?”
Connor looked down at the table and considered his options. If he’d read him right, maybe Oliver would help him. Or he could try to persuade him into helping him anyway. He didn’t seem at all disinterested, if the way he jumped into it as soon as Connor looked at another guy was anything to go by.
So he came clean to him. He didn’t tell him everything, but he assured him if he’d help him, he wouldn’t find himself involved in it at all, nor would he suffer any legal consequences.
And that’s how he found himself at Oliver’s apartment.
He looked around the shelves, filled with all kinds of books. Some seemed interesting, some seemed boring as hell; but somehow they all seemed very Oliver. At least from what he’d come to know of the guy.
He was admiring a painting on his wall when Oliver interrupted him.
“This is it. The emails you wanted to see.”
Connor read them and chuckled. Luck was on his side today. He might actually reward himself for a job well done.
“Can you print these for me?”
“Sure. Just a sec,” the other man said, taking the laptop back and clicking away.
Connor went back to studying the walls, the printer working somewhere behind him.
“Here,” Oliver said, handing him the still warm pages. “That’s what you wanted.”
He bit his lip and considered his situation. The tone he’d used suggested disappointment, like he expected a different outcome when a guy approached him at the bar out of nowhere. Maybe even feeling silly for letting himself be tricked like that.
And if Connor was being honest with himself, the guy was actually… nice. And easy to talk to. He did get to know him a bit before working on getting that info. But now he already had it in his hands. There was no rush to get the job done anymore.
He was now free to indulge. So that’s what he did.
Connor placed the pages on the kitchen island and walked closer to him, hands immediately going for Oliver’s pants.
“I thought all you wanted from me were those emails,” the other man panted sometime later, confused.
Connor kissed him and ripped his shirt off, throwing him on the bed and stealing some more kisses before answering honestly.
“I did. But I want this, too.”